


warm enough

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Dad Harry, Domestic, Fluff, Kidfic, gender neutral spouse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-18 21:41:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11883390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Harry's first son and his first day of kindergarten. Harry might be more nervous than he is.





	warm enough

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if I like this but I haven't written in a while.

He’d been pacing so much his spouse was afraid he’d tear a hole right through their brand new kitchen tile. He’d drank so much coffee and his hands shook so much they were afraid his fingers would break right off and spill across the floor and knock into the walls and ruin the crown molding they were so proud of. He’d barely touched his breakfast, instead jiggling his legs up and down as he sat at the kitchen table, a plain white longsleeved shirt and tight skinny jeans over his lanky frame, a flat stomach and broad shoulders underneath the wrinkled fabric. The bags under his eyes were large, and he was pouting even bigger, sulking around his cereal bowl that morning like a child who had been chastised. 

The first day of kindergarten for his first son was no joke.

Harry’s partner had tried everything to make Harry relax the night before, however they found that task to be harder than clawing out of a tar pit on a hot summer's day.

“What if the kids are mean to him?” Harry whispered from where he was perched on their bed in nothing but his boxers, his spouse wrapped around his broad shoulders. They kissed his cheek, stroking the sides of his neck in an effort to get him to calm down, but it was no luck. Harry had gone through every scenario in his head, from Adam getting bullied and crying himself sick to falling and scraping his knee and being too shy to ask his teacher for a bandage. Harry knew, at least in the back of his mind he knew, that his son would be safe and eventually make friends, but first-day-of-school jitters were killing him. There was nothing he should even be nervous about. Adam was bright, excitable, and had lots of energy and hugs to give everyone he met. Maybe he was biased, but his kid was pretty great, and it wasn't just himself and his spouse that thought so. He would be fine, he knew it in the back of his mind. He would be fine. 

But still....

He wished he could just wrap up his four year old in his favorite soft blanket and never let him leave the comfort of Harry’s chest, but he knew he had to. School was important. He needed to go to school. He needed to get out of the house and go to school, whether his father wanted him to or not. It was part of growing up - for Adam and for himself, Harry supposed. Every parent went through this. This was normal. This was normal.

He’d packed his son’s lunch that morning, after waking up at five on the dot. School didn’t start until nine, but he’d already been on his second cup of coffee and it was half past six and he figured he’d start on Adam’s lunch sooner than later. And packed his backpack, making sure his pencils and notebook and crayons were neatly placed in lines. 

He’d done nothing but roll around in bed all night, his eyes up at the ceiling. Nothing, not his spouse coaxing and kissing him or rubbing his back, nothing could get him to calm down. So he got up, tired of to-ing and fro-ing and huffing, pulling at his newly-short hair and scratching at the stubble on his cheeks. He sat up without thinking, his feet hitting the floor carefully so as to not wake his family, sliding a pair of sweatpants on over his boxers and heading down to the couch for his first round of the pattern of sleep/wake up and walk around the house/sleep that would affect him for the next three hours.

His spouse had found him there, passed out and drooling slightly. They’d woken up at eight after noticing the bed next to them was empty, the sheets cold. They tsked slightly, figuring out for themselves what had happened. They themselves went downstairs, following the ghost of Harry’s tired footprints from hours ago. “Petal,” they’d whispered, mostly to themselves in fond amazement, carding their hands through a sleeping Harry’s hair, “hey, go up to bed, H. You’re tired.”

“No, m’up,” Harry slurred, batting their hand away gently before taking it in his own and squeezing it lightly before sitting up. He was fully clothed, one sock on and the other lost underneath one of the couch cushions. His spouse bit back a laugh at the sight of him. He was all long legs and tan skin and rumpled clothes, his mouth in a confused, sleepy pout with his bottom lip sticking out just a bit too far. He hadn’t shaven in a few days, a little bit of stubble poking out of above his lip and under his chin. He had marks from sleeping on his high cheekbones and his forehead, and his hair was a complete mess, needing to be washed and combed or maybe just cut all over again. His body was that of a sleepy puppy, slow and languid.

“Hey,” Harry said, his voice even slower and deeper than usual with the sleep he had just been roused from. “C’mere.”

He pulled his spouse onto his lap, the smaller body fitting easily into his chest. Harry hummed, placing his head on their shoulder with arms around their waist, their arms wrapped around his neck. Kissing his chin, they asked, “Are you ready?”

And Harry nodded with a sigh, however his body stayed very much slumped against his spouse. “Let’s get him up.”

 

“Maybe we should wait another year. Is he ready? I don’t think he’s ready. Another year at home, and then-”

“Harry. Baby. He’s almost five. This is the perfect age for starting school. He’s ready, you know he’s ready. You’re anxious, pet. You drank a lot of coffee this morning, angel. Relax, please. Deep breaths.”

Harry’s partner had decided they’d drive; as Harry looked much too distracted and worked up to get behind the wheel. They were sat in the parking lot of Adam’s school, Harry’s left hand clasped in his spouses as they placed kisses to his knuckles, rubbing their lips and nose softly at his fingers in order to keep skin-to-skin contact to keep their husband calm. It wasn’t like they themselves weren’t anxious; they were. But they knew their child would be fine, and they had to be strong for Harry, because he was usually strong for them.

“Deep breaths, petal. You’re doing good. There you go,” they instructed softly, turning down the AC in the car after noticing the goosebumps raised on Harry’s skin, or maybe it was just the nerves. They placed a hand on Harry’s inner thigh, stroking the tense muscle there, too, trying to keep him calm from all angles. “You’re doing so well. He’s going to be fine, my darling. You love him so much; that’s why you’re so nervous. You want to protect him, right? Keep him safe?” They leaned over the console, stroking underneath Harry’s jaw with their fingers. Harry unclenched his jaw after not realizing he was holding it, swallowing sharply and nodding, his breaths evening out. His son in the backseat was playing with one of his toys, completely unaware of his parents in front of him, one of which was panicking from the inside out.

“I know, baby. But you know what? You know how safe you keep him every day? Whether you’re helping him in the bath or cross the road, or just loving him? You keep him safe. You keep him safe, sweetheart. We would never send him anywhere that would make him unsafe. And we’re gonna kiss him goodbye, and then we’ll be right back here in less than seven hours to come get him and take him home. Okay? He’s going to have such a fun day; his Daddy packed his bag for him and his lunch, and he’s got a note from me in there too, so he won’t miss us for a second. It’s like we’re there with him. He’s going to be safe, Harry. I promise you.”

Harry nodded slowly, staring at the school building that seemed so far away but so close at the same time. He breathed and blinked for a few beats, turning around to his son. His forced smile turned into a real one as Adam gave him a toothless grin, reaching out for Harry’s hand.

“You’ll pick me up at three, Dadda?”

“Three o’clock, baby. I’ll be right here waiting for you. Your day will fly by, I promise you. We’re gonna be right here waiting for you to come home.”

“And we can get ice cream after school? You promised!”

“Ice cream after school, sweetheart,” Harry’s spouse confirmed, giving their son a wink. “If Daddy is good today, that is. We have lots of chores to do while you’re gone.” They helped Adam out of his seat and onto the pavement, Harry handing him his backpack. Thankful for his spouse’s hand on his lower back (he probably would have toppled to the ground without the support, both physical and emotional), Harry leaned down to pull his boy into a hug.

“Don’t be nervous, Daddy,” Adam whispered, his tiny body wrapped around Harry’s. Harry chuckled out a breathless laugh, kissing the side of Adam’s little head.

“I won’t be nervous if you won’t be,” Harry said, holding out his pinky to promise. Adam grinned, returning the pinky promise and kissing Harry on the cheek, doing the same to his other parent.

“Three o’clock, right Dad?” Adam whispered before pulling away. It was the first time Harry had seen his son anxious about school. His little mouth was pouting, his hands still holding onto Harry’s arm. Harry smiled, tilting his head closer to his son. Other children and cars were starting to arrive, children voicing similar concerns to their own families about nerves. Harry wondered if any other parents were quite as anxious as he was.

“I’ll be here at two-thirty,” Harry promised with another whisper, squeezing Adam’s little hand. “Right in this very spot.”

 

“There might be traffic,” Harry voiced for the fifth time that day since he and his spouse had gotten home. “We should leave now. I’ll go. Let’s go. I don’t want him to wait.” He grabbed the keys that he’d been staring at for an hour now, feeling the hard metal cutting into his skin. Draining his tea in one gulp, he stood up, placing the book he hadn’t even been reading on the coffee table. The couple had a quiet, childless lunch together and then decided to cuddle up on the sofa and do some quiet reading and crossword puzzles, but Harry got antsy quickly.

“Harry, sit down. I mean it. It’s one o’clock. School doesn’t end til three. We have plenty of time.” They sighed when Harry looked at them helplessly, and then pried the keys out of his hands.

“C’mere, babe. Let me rub your shoulders, you’re too tense. Let me get behind you, move over a little. Make some room.”

But Harry wouldn’t listen, his teeth chewing on his lower lip like a starved man. “What if he’s upset?” Harry asked, his voice heightening in pitch. “Or, the kids aren’t playing with him or...oh, oh,” he sighed, hands finding the crick in his upper back that he could never manage to massage himself. He closed his eyes and hummed, feeling expert hands smoothing up and down, working out his loose ends and tight ends and everything in between. He needed a good massage.

“Shh, love. Don’t speak. No more talking,” a voice whispered, the warm body of his partner behind him, lips at his ear. And then a hand slid in between his legs, and there was not much more he could think about then.

 

 

“Where is he?”

“He’s right there, petal. Walking with his teacher, see? He’s waving, oh, hi baby! C’mere - oh, he’s got a picture, pet, look. I bet he missed you so much.” They smiled, squeezing Harry around the hip.

Harry breathed and blinked for a few beats, his eyes trailing amongst dozens of children, parents as anxious as himself, and flurries of activity. The air smelled like autumn and paint and dry leaves, safe and colorful and warmth warmth warmth. The sun exploded, then, when a loud “Daddy!” sounded, Adam running toward his family, making a beeline for his father, a picture of his family that he finger painted clasped in his hands. The world carried on, and kindergarten suddenly wasn’t the most scary thing in the world - for father or for son.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos always appreciated xx


End file.
